I am not a poetry fan, and have not read Digges' poetry, but I can imagine from this book that she is very talented. Her prose is like poetry--beautiful to read and able to bring strong emotions to the reader, but as a memoir this book is a little frustrating. So much is started and not finished, or told about in bits and pieces. We are told of her mother's very tough last birth (the author is one of 10 children) but never what made it so tough or what the outcome is, we are told she has problems in her first marriage that lead to divorce, but never really are shown what is wrong in the marriage, and indeed all the people in this book don't come alive for me, including her parents, who are central characters. I don't mean to discourage reading of this book, I am very glad I read it and enjoyed it a great deal. I love her way of describing specific incidents, like her first week of college when she was so homesick or high school home ec, but I wish there was more to this book---I'd have loved to know more about her and more specifics on her life!

Digges is best known for her poetry, but this novel - a memoir - is a beautifully prolonged and powerful sigh of prose that wafts us from Digges' childhood through her adolescence, college, and first (failed) marriage to deposit us gently beside an unsteady but undaunted woman approaching middle age.

This book was a bit slow for me to begin with. But after Deborah took Stephen to the unconventional therapist, things picked up. I thought, this guy can't be real. But when you read what he tells Deborah to "join his anger", you see that it all makes sense. Her book is full of wonderful prose. And the way the animals help them all heal. Towards the end, as Stephen is making progress, he begins to teach her things also. This in a wonderful book for parents, therapists, teachers, principals, and any one who has judgement on those teens who don't look or act like we think they should. Maybe, as Deborah says, it's time for the school systems to look at how they deal with these children. Stephen tells a little of his story too. The essay he wrote for a class is wonderful. Good luck to a family who made it despite the establishment and all their rules and regulations.

For anyone who has ever had a child they believe to be out of control, this is a must read book. As a counsellor, it is a known fact there are not many parents who would abandon conventionial methods of therapy for the non-traditional. Deborah Digges did just that when she sought help from a non-traditional therapist for her thirteen year old son, Stephen, who was alrady toting guns, stealing, and doing drugs. In the words of her therapist, "Join him in his anger at life. Don't educate him in what he should have done. Let him figure it out." The world could certainly use more therapists with this type of modern-day philosophy - it would open endless possibilities, particularly in dealing with teen-related issues.

What follows is a bizzare lifestyle reminiscent of the Bohemian trend of the 60's - virtually anything goes! With the aloof attitude, "you sleep where you drop," munching on fast food and pizzas as the fair-of-the-day, and opening her home to gang members who would give most mothers an acute panic attack, the book is full of surprises. Ultimately, they are surprises that work. It is a modern day version, of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" philosophy.

The most enjoyable element of this off-beat, true-to-life tale is the author's light-hearted, witty writing style. Faced with overhwhelming adversity from teachers and law enforcement officers, her incredible determination will win the hearts of any parent who happens to think no other parent on Earth could possibly be going through "this insane pile of sh..!" Hats off to Deborah Diggs. She is a woman with a purpose and a mission, clearly treading where few mothers dare to go. The book teaches a powerful message in a rather unorthodox manner.

What do you do if you're a single parent and your younger son comes home with a gun ? That's a terse version of author Deborah Digges' situation ten years ago, and what she did comprises the story so affectingly told in this book. This is by no means a "how - to" book; it tells of one mother's experience and the love of a mother for her son, no matter that he was a really, really bad boy. And it is beautifully told, at times poignant and at others humorous. The apparently positive effects of pets on Stephen's development are convincing and may well be "generalizable" to other difficult childhood situations. "The Stardust Lounge" inspired me and everyone I know who read it.

Deborah Digges, Vesper Sparrows (Atheneum, 1986)

Every year at CWRU's book sale's box day (five bucks a box, as big a box as you can carry), I manage to grab myself fifteen or twenty books of poetry. Of them, one or two are absolute keepers, the kind of books I spend my whole life searching for. Box day has produced such collection-worthy books as David St. John's Study for the World's Body and Debra Allbery's Walking Distance; add to those Deborah Digges' first collection of poetry, 1986's Vesper Sparrows. Vesper Sparrows won the Delmore Schwartz Memorial Poetry Award the year after its release, and has recently been reissued by Carnegie-Mellon's Classic Contemporary Poetry series. Both kudos are very well deserved.

Digges treads, but never crosses, the most oft-abused line in poetry. You have to dig for the deeper meanings, but not too far, and what's on the surface is easily visualized and understood. Digges balances the tightrope perfectly, never falling off either to the "tell don't show" side or the "show, but don't give us enough to figure it out" side (which has been popular with the Pulitzer and Nobel committees for far too long-have YOU tried puzzling out some of the stuff in Jorie Graham's last book?).

"Then Greenfield became synonymous with Heaven
in all the hymns my mother sang, hour
by chained hour. Greenfield, the rhythm
of my father's boots on linoleum
when he came in late, went out again looking.
Greenfield, that secret destination
I didn't know enough to grieve..."
("Mimosa")

Exquisite.